Desire

     I am very easily caught up in waves of desire. I think it’s some sort of defense mechanism for my brain-a welcomed diversion from whatever I’m trying to avoid in my life. If it were the feeling of desire alone, I could easily deal with it-physiologically, it’s a heightening of senses-an increase in the heart rate, a release of chemicals in the brain-nothing that a good cup of coffee or a drink of fine wine can’t rival. The problem with desire, though, is that it always has an object. It’s not just a feeling, it’s a fixation-and it can easily become an obsession. You aren’t just filled with desire; you are filled with desire FOR SOMETHING. And this is what gets me in trouble-because it makes me lose sight of others-it shines the spotlight only on me. And if you lead a life of selfishness long enough, you will eventually find yourself alone-because that’s really the only thing you were living for anyway. Desire comes in so many forms whether it be shopping, planning a trip, seducing others or doing something we probably shouldn’t be doing (which is normally the most satisfying kind of desire).

     That said, desires are not always bad-we can desire to have a good marriage, a healthy body, a sound mind, a happy life. These things in and of themselves are not bad. God himself actually woos us with promises of desires fulfilled and dreams realized. We’re made to have needs and to have them met. We’re made to reciprocate in our relationships in order to meet others’ needs. But when our desires are out of balance or they suit only ourselves, we have moved from simple desire to the overpowering kind of machine that plows down anything standing in our way. 

     It’s hard for me to identify exactly where desire ends and ambition begins-where determination starts and impulse takes over-where healthiness starts turning to sickness. When left unchecked, I think it is desire that entices me to push boundaries, even the boundaries which are healthy for keeping. The push it to the edge, take it to the limit type of drive can be detrimental to our well-being. Boundaries like friendship, marriage and family are not the types that respond well when pushed. When we nag our spouses to the point of breaking, when we say that one last word to provoke a reaction-what we are really doing is saying that I can manipulate this person, this relationship, because I believe that it will still be there even if I cross lines. I am in essence degrading that which I hold most dear in order to get what I want, what I desire. I am saying that the desire to be “right” or “best” or “first” or even “satisfied” comes before those I love. In fact, the desires are greater than my love-or you could say that they show how much I really do love others. If I am willing to put these things ahead of relationship, it speaks volumes as to how much I actually value that relationship-even if my words say something different. When we push the limits of relationship too often, we eventually will break the bond that held the system together-and inevitably, the game in which we were so comfortable playing will come to an end. We will eventually find ourselves solely in the company of the person we loved the most-ourselves.

     Desire, when it becomes unhealthy, is a lie. It’s what tells us that the grass is greener on the other side. It’s what makes us unhappy with those things we’ve obtained already. It makes us willing to give up precious gifts for that mirage we think we see in the distance.  It’s what makes us take the easy way instead of the lasting way.  It’s what makes us believe that overnight success is easily attained; it’s what fuels us to make that late night call in response to the “get rich quick” infomercial. Desire, when out of control, always sets us up for failure. 

     What is the remedy to our compulsions, desires and impulses?  I think admitting is always the first step-recognizing and identifying those places in which our selfishness reigns is an integral part of staying healthy and changing ourselves.  Brutal honesty is the balm of hidden wounds and secrets. Come clean. Break down the barriers within your heart that allow you to shut out the needs and feelings of others. Deny yourself, at least for a time, so that you are out of your own way. Love others with the kind of love you yourself desire. Make someone else’s dreams come true. More often than not, you will find that your needs are met through meeting the needs of others.

 

Patterns

If you know me, you know I can seem unpredictable. The truth is, though, that I am extremely predictable-it’s just that certain tendencies of mine last longer than others-and you have to stick around long enough to figure out that I’m constantly coming around to the place where I started. I stay in certain places for varying lengths of time-depending on my stage of life. The stages that I visit are few-but constantly cycling. I have patterns that I trace, old familiar paths well worn from my years of existence, experience…wandering through life searching for hidden secrets-in myself, in others, in humanity. I know these paths by heart, and the longer you know me, the easier you will be able identify where I’m at on these paths…You will find yourself saying: She’s cynical right now, it will pass. Sometimes, you’ll notice that I’m restless, a caged animal pacing the pen, getting ready to break free at the first opportunity. Or, she’s content again, at last, with the cards she’s playing. But these patterns aren’t just in me-they’re everywhere. We have patterns in relationships, marriages, friendships-meeting, courting, comfort, travailing, persevering, comfort, travailing, persevering, comfort. There are patterns in weight fluctuation, cycles of life-birth, growth, aging, death, birth growth, aging, death. Patterns in seasons, weather, body functions and medical conditions.  If it weren’t true, we could never learn. If situations didn’t repeat themselves, how would we ever have the opportunity to do the right thing the next time? If there weren’t common and repetitive symptoms to illnesses, how would we diagnose anything? How would we find remedy to what ails us? If it weren’t so, how would we ever make sense of anything? Though patterns can sometimes seem like a sick, perverted joke of the cosmos, I believe that they are there for our own good, a gift we did not ask for…though we may think at times that we’re just circling over and over again, what I think is actually happening is that we’re moving upward. Almost like climbing a mountain in cylindrical fashion. Climbing this way, you can brave the incline in smaller doses, seemingly not climbing at all, but with every pass around the starting point, even if we move up a few inches, we will eventually make noticeable progress-getting closer and closer to the top.

 

Patterns allow us to anticipate. When things do not follow pattern, we are left with a cheated feeling-like something wasn’t fair: when someone dies unexpectedly of a treatable disease, when a healthy child dies during delivery, when summer comes too late or winter comes too soon, when we’re betrayed by a friend or spouse, and so on and so on. These things do happen because life is not perfect; we’re fallen somehow, like there’s a glitch in the system that we know shouldn’t be there. When these random occurrences present themselves, we remember how desperately we all rely on pattern, cycle and predictability.  

 

Also, if we’re not careful, we can slip into patterns of destruction. Because it is our natural tendency to live in pattern, it can be hard to escape any unhealthy behaviors in which we are operating. We have to do the hard work of going against our grain to create new and constructive patterns, otherwise, we may never climb the mountain at all-we will just continue circling round and round, but not actually getting anywhere.

 

For the most part, we’re all predictable…It’s just the way things are created. It is how we can know someone and in turn, how we can be known. It’s how we know when someone is “not themselves” or when they do something “unlike them.” Without patterns, we wouldn’t have relationship or community. We wouldn’t have love. Without pattern, we wouldn’t have a life worth living.

 

Reality Check (rated R)

Disclaimer-these thoughts contain certain expletives or alluded expletives that may be considered inappropriate for certain readers. Grown-ups only please.

 

When I experience affliction, discomfort, pain, heartbreak, etc, my first knee jerk reaction is to numb the feelings-to replace that sense of heavy, searing loss with something else. The problem with this, though, is then you are never feeling-you are only medicating. Real life is a hard thing to exist in-I am an escape artist-finding my way out of thoughts and situations that are too real for me-a little too uncomfortable. I should charge admission to witness it. I’m a pro. I can medicate by drinking, entertaining myself, by leaving the scene of the indiscretion, even by writing in order to help the feelings pass-or to shut them down completely. I am constantly anesthetizing myself to numb it down, dumb it down.

 

But when I start to feel my feelings and to give them a voice instead of avoiding, escaping, evading-a whole other host of problems emerge. Authenticity can start to get pretty dark, depressing. And you can start to alienate people. Because the world is a fallen place and its truths leave you directly at the bottom of the accepted hierarchy of social etiquette. I realize that people like the fake me better than the real me, because it’s more comfortable to be around. They want me neat and tidy-polite and socially aware, politically correct because it allows them to operate in their own shroud of fakeness. Not too many profanities, keeping perversion to a minimum or at least behind closed doors, channeling rage into a Stepford-like grin. But sometimes I want to just give a big F-U to everyone in their perfectly kept worlds. But then they would shake their head at me and whisper quietly amongst themselves, maybe even send up a prayer or two on my behalf because I have obviously lost my way.  They may start to think that I’m disturbed, that I need a good anti-depressant…They may quietly begin to monitor me for signs of demise, calculating when the suicide watch should commence. But I haven’t lost my way. I’m in touch with who I am-or at least I’m trying to get there.  I’m trying to exist in a state of awareness-awake to the realities surrounding me. To know the hardcore pain and destruction that runs rampant in the world and in my very own mind and body.

 

People close to me sometimes say that I’m harsh…It depends on your definition. I would like to say that I’m trying to get as real as possible.  And this often involves breaking things down to their source-or just breaking them altogether. To peel back the layers at the risk of spoiling the whole lot. Because otherwise you’re just a fake. You may be pleasant to be around-you may help others to feel secure in their own guise, but ultimately, it’s not real.  I don’t really feel compassion for people living in a dream world-in fact, I think a little harshness may be just what they need to snap them out of their delusional haze. (See? A little harsh)

 

Some may wonder what quality of life is possible if the choice is made to live authentically and honestly rather than parading around in masks of appropriateness. And to that I reply that the sky is the limit. Because, as a very intuitive Tyler Durden once said, it’s only when you’ve lost everything that you’re free to do anything (Fight Club-if you haven’t seen it, watch it…and where have you been for the last 10 years?).

 

As a self-professed Jesus follower, I am always looking for the spiritual aspect of things-because it’s always there if you’re willing to see it. But we even try to turn Jesus into something that he wasn’t-we try to dumb him down to butterflies and flowers. I think that’s why people like to paint Jesus in the picture holding the lambs and blessing the children. That Jesus is kind and comfortable-we know how to deal with that Christ-and that is one of his sides, but it’s definitely not his only side. They rarely paint the pictures of him flipping everybody off and turning over the tables.  They rarely paint the picture of Jesus confronting the home-wrecker at the well and tearing her world in two because she was medicating pain and loneliness with lust. Jesus is a cut to the chase kind of guy (and if you really want to get deep, then you could point out that according to local custom, Jesus shouldn’t have even been talking to her-both because of her nationality and because she was a female-it would have been considered inappropriate for Jesus to be talking to her while no one else was there…But Jesus always chooses truth over custom and reality over deception).  That’s just how he rolls-Jesus wants to break you down until you can get real. He would often tell the religious people that they were ridiculous, fake m-f-ers and that they were leading everyone into destruction behind them.  And then he would go and get cheaters, liars and prostitutes to be his posse. I think that Jesus chose these people because they were more in touch with their brokenness than everybody else-they were closer to hitting bottom. And that’s the type of people Jesus can use and that he prefers to be around. If you think you are alright, you have no need for a doctor. And Jesus came to heal the sick and broken. So he chose broken people as his friends and companions. Jesus gets in your face, and if he sees that you are too fake to let him in, he doesn’t force himself on you. But he will always check to see where and when he can break through your façade and get a little hold on you. He never stops trying. But he won’t deal in an ingenuine, unrealistic way either. When he comes, he’s real and hard core.

 

I view life through the lens of someone who believes that resurrection is possible-even on this side of the grave. What many don’t consider, though, is that resurrection requires a death-and the death it requires is your own-at least it’s the death of the you that you are currently-the one living in the clinical, sterile lie that gets you by on a daily basis.  The truth is that we’re all liars and cheaters-some of us just do it in a more subversive way. And some of us lie so well to ourselves, that we will never be able to recognize that we’re a liar. Only those of us clued in to the lies we tell ourselves and others have a chance of being set free from them. If you can’t admit you’re a wretch, you can never be anything else. As they say in 12-step recovery circles “Your secrets keep you sick,” even the ones you don’t know you’re keeping. Kill yourself-the you you’ve been now for quite a while.

 

Fuck nice. Fuck pleasantries. Tell me what you’re hiding. Tell me why you work all the time and then when you come home, you drink and watch television until you go to bed. Tell me why you need constant recognition about every little thing you do in order to feel good about yourself. Tell me why you’re obsessed with your body image.  Tell me what you’re running from and why. Tell me what pisses you off about the world. Tell me how you really feel about me-about yourself-about your life. People sometimes say that the truth sets you free…But it’s normally not the truth about others or science or whatever the hell you’re in to, it’s the truth about you. Know yourself-find out who you really are.  If you’re lonely, recognize it. And if you’re angry and pissed off or disgruntled or tired, then let yourself be that for a while. But if you’re using anger or sarcasm as a defense-a type of lie in itself, then identify it. Own who you are. Maybe you don’t know why you’re running, or hiding or obsessed. Find the source-exorcise your demons, cleanse your soul. Take a vacation from the hard work of trying to be someone else.  Maybe even send up a prayer and ask the Wild Christ to break you down and get real with him and yourself-and then when you’re ready, with others.

 

I think if we were all just a little more honest and open with each other, we’d be much healthier people…Maybe not the nicest people, but grounded and healthy. Released. I think so many of us are walking around with cracks all over us, but we’re ignoring them. We don’t realize that one day, if something hits us the wrong way, it’s all going to crumble.

 

What, then, is the remedy to our brokenness? It would be really easy, but also only a partial truth, for me to say that all you need is Jesus. We do need Jesus, but we also need each other. We are created to be in relationship with one another (which is why we get married, have friendships, birth children).  Even Jesus, when he came, needed friends-people to talk to and share with. Sometimes those friends did a crappy job of supporting him-betraying him, falling asleep when he really needed them, totally misunderstanding everything he said. But Christ still needed them, because that is how we are made.  And I think that the beginning of our healing starts with being able to come clean with one another. But in order to do this, we need a safe place to emote-to let all our shit out on the table-no matter how disgusting and reprehensible.  Where can you go to find such a place? I really don’t know. Normally you have to pay people to sit down and focus on you, even if just for an hour, without taking control of the conversation. Even at certain churches, you have a whole other set of neuroses going on-people trying to act holy, like they have no problems, or that the ones they do have are easily fixed. People inserting passive judgment into a place where judgment is actually not supposed to exist. No one wants to hear about real darkness-addiction, rage, violence or things that we’ve done-like adultery, stealing, lying, betrayal. Most people feel that they can’t ever tell anyone the truth because all they’ll get in return is judgment. Unfortunately, even close friends often wait for their turn to speak instead of really listening.  But if you don’t open up and let all that crap out, it may eat you up from the inside.

 

We need to be more selfless with our time and motivations-why can’t we devote even an hour or two to just sitting in someone else’s shit in order to pull them out of it? Let’s be the kind of people we were made to be-supporting, listening, challenging one another on toward truth. Be somebody’s soft place to fall. And if someone’s trying to be real with you, don’t treat them like a fucked up alien who is abnormal for feeling not ok-if you can’t understand them, then maybe you have some getting real to do.

 

Jesus said to them, “I tell you the truth, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you.  Matthew 21:31

 

Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free. John 8:32

 

“Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?” Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life.  John 14:5-6

 

I am the Fertility Goddess

So everyone I know is pregnant…About 6 different ladies that I work with…My sister…The wife of a guy friend I work with…Even my best friend who gave birth 9 months ago is due again in February…and the only common denominator I can identify between all these people is me.  So I’m starting to think that I may have magical powers that allow me to grant fertility to unsuspecting women. I wouldn’t even be surprised if I’m responsible for that pregnant man everyone keeps talking about (who’s really a woman anyway, but that’s for another blog).

 

When my husband and I were married 5 years last May, we had yet to be asked if we were thinking about having children.  Now that we are going on 6 years, people all over the place are starting to ask-people I just meet, ex-boyfriends, family members-even my cats and dog look at me a little curiously…it’s almost as if I’m emanating some sort of invisible energy field that makes people think about babies and ultimately become pregnant with them.

 

To answer the question, whether or not it’s on your mind, I am not pregnant.  And I don’t plan to be for about another 3 years. I would like to finish my degree, get a good teaching job, make sure my small business is stable, etc, etc, before I take on that kind of life change.  I also know that I will be a better mom at that time because right now, I am just a little too self-involved to be the kind of mother I want to be. There are still some really important things about life and humanity that I’m figuring out. When I say that to people, they reply “but you’re never ready to do it…when it happens, then you become ready.” And I don’t totally disagree…But I do know that there are better times than others and better stages in life and relationship to make that decision. 

 

I grew up in a relatively normal household. My parents are still together after 34 years of marriage. But even though I come from a healthy upbringing, I still have issues. I can’t imagine how people make it through unhealthy childhoods without completely self-destructing. And for me, this is all the more reason to wait.  I don’t want my children to be tainted by my own unresolved issues…not to say that I’ll ever have all my issues resolved, but the more I can resolve prior to bringing another person into this world, the better. 

 

For some reason, I naturally befriend people who are about 5-10 years older than me. I am always the youngest person in my crowd. It’s always been that way. I graduated a year ahead, started school early. Moved out of the house after just turning 17 (eventually moved back in 18 months later, but still), always dated men 3, 6, 8, and even 12 years older than me, married at 21. You could say that I’ve been rushing through life from the starting gate. But in this area, this one area, I am making the decision to wait. It’s just too important to screw up.

 

At night, I am fortunate enough to work in an environment of people who are working on their issues (mainly substance abuse, however substance issues almost always involve many other issues)-and I am fortunate to have co-workers who are trained in counseling, addictions counseling and codependency.  I pretty much get free therapy just by being present in the office where I work because we’re always talking about tendencies, personalities, problems, motivations, etc, etc, etc. That’s probably one of the reasons I realize that I do have things to work on in my own life. There are also several women there that ended up waiting longer than normal to have children. And these are some of the most amazing moms I’ve ever seen. Both because they are counselors and because they have life’s wisdom behind them, wisdom from which I am fortunate to glean on a daily basis. When I say to them that I have to work on me before I can raise a child, they actually congratulate me for recognizing it. They say “it’s awesome that you know that about yourself, so wait if you are not ready.” These wonderful women in my life are so affirming and empowering that I know I am making the right decision for me.

 

But with all this pregnancy mojo happening around me and the immeasurable force of fertility magic I must possess, I’m quite certain that once I decide to begin that chapter in my life, I will either be having twins (they run in my family and they normally skip a generation, so my fam is due for multiples) or I will have gotten so many women pregnant by that time that I’ll be all babied out and I’ll just get another kitten instead.

 

Now that you’ve read this, you might want to take a pregnancy test…even if you’re a man. And for those of you that I come in contact with on a regular basis, I apologize for any unexpected buns I have placed in your oven.

 

Hello and Welcome…

Since I’ve been blogging for quite some time now in forums such as myspace, etc, I thought I’d make it official and finally begin the transition to WordPress.  Thanks for stopping by and checking it out. If you want to know a little more about me, then click on the “About Me” section at the top of my page (genius, I know). I hope you enjoy what you read here, and if you don’t enjoy it, I at least hope it makes you think.

Thanks for Spending Time With Me Today!

Cheryl

 

Pink vs. Progress

10/21/08

A word about progress:

I’m starting to remember process is the whole point. It’s really not about where we end up because if we were to come upon that place, we would simply be left with the thought of where to go next? It’s never over.  But it makes me sad to think that as we grow, we have to leave certain things behind because they don’t fit who we are anymore. We have to shed old layers in order for growth to spring forth. This can be a painful process. During these times, it can seem a natural compulsion to halt this transformation-to reach for the layers of molt on the ground and for a while, to hold them tenderly and remember…Sometimes, when things get difficult in life, we want to look back to places we once were because they were familiar, not necessarily better. And occasionally when we look back like that, we choose to look with rose colored glasses, because any pain we had felt at that time has dulled, its sharp blades no longer piercing our skin. We think, “it really wasn’t that bad. There were some good things.”  But usually, we leave those things behind for a reason and we forget how it felt to stand at those crossroads in that place and time. Hindsight is usually 20/20, when we put the glasses down and look with an accurate view of reality. But every now and then, when the present seems less than glamorous or when we have set foot upon a rocky path, we find ourselves pulling the rose hued glasses from our proverbial drawer and we recall the past through pink shades of reminiscence.

And for a short time, we cease to evaluate our experience with our current perception. We regress back to that younger, more immature outlook and in turn, we experience the same emotions, the same sense of uncertainty-we wonder if we should have gone the other way down those crossroads. We experience the urge to keep whatever it was we left behind going, to resurrect our old selves from the mausoleum of yesterday and relive the moments that could have made us a different person. But the glasses are deceptive and we should never forget this. The glasses tell a tale of things working out in the best way possible (which, if we’re honest, rarely happens), they tell a story of progress where there is none; they tell you that your life now is but a shadow of what might have been. The glasses want you to believe that you had it all and you lost it.  The glasses want you to turn around and go back down the way you came.

But when we are seeing clearly and we leave the glasses be, we can evaluate the past truthfully and we can recognize the blessings that were granted and also the errors of our ways. We think of “then” now and with our progressive intelligence we surmise, “if only I could go back and say this, or make that decision, I wonder if things would have turned out differently.” And, yes, they would have turned out differently. But at the time, we did not have the capacity to look upon the situation objectively, or with the increased insight and maturity necessary to modify the outcome so that, perhaps, we could have held on to certain aspects of “then” without it ruining us. And with our present clarity, we realize how truly lucky we were to have gotten out of certain situations-because this allowed us to transcend past that roadblock.  We remember that we didn’t have the ability to change our reality in the way that we would have if we were given a do over, knowing what we know now. Had we stayed where we were, without the capacity to improve aspects of our situation, then our progress would have ceased and we would not have grown into who we have become.

You know those people when you see them-the ones who decided that progress was too much of a risk and that this is good enough; the ones who approach the door of opportunity and do not pass through. “It’s not great and I can’t change it, but I’m not going to move.” The ones who were full of promise, but who never lived up to their full potential-because they couldn’t depart their reality for the unknown. Their growth is stalled, and even though their perception and maturity level may change slightly as time goes on, they have clothed their lives in the same surroundings they’ve always worn.  They are stuck in a hamster wheel existence.

You also know the people who wear their glasses all the time, and they see yesterday as an eternal pink sunset to which the light of now can never compare. Their glory days are in the past and today can never be as grand. Those folks have memorabilia gracing their walls and photo albums strewn around their tables. There’s a sadness in their eyes that says, “things will never be the same.” If only they would put the glasses down and let the clarity pass through them-they would see that there is still joy to come…that progress can be sweet. But they have grown accustomed to the color pink-and they will not give it up for truth. Yesterday is a safer place to live because we’ve already been there-it feels comfortable.

We need to remember the truths about our past.  We need to see clearly and accurately so that we are not swayed from the path ahead, from the progress we are intended to commence. When we feel ourselves start reaching for the glasses, we need to think about the specific reasons why we left certain situations and all the problems that could have resulted had we not moved. If we find ourselves unsuspectingly donning the rosy frames, we need to be sure that we do not slip so far into the illusion that we start to make random changes to our present so that it more closely resembles the past. We must ensure that we do not take a mental vacation into that pink dimension because once there, it can be hard to leave again…And even those people who had once invited the light of reality into their lives can find themselves exchanging that clarity for the rosy-hued perpetual haze of yesterday. The most important truth of all to remember is that the past doesn’t exist. The things you left behind aren’t waiting for you to return and make a different decision. Those things were forced to move as well when you left. They may not have moved very far-they may have found a life very similar to the one they had with you, but nevertheless, they are no longer where you left them. The truth is that you don’t belong there anyway. Like outgrown garments, they were tossed aside and maybe someone else is even wearing them now. But don’t despise your new coat and find yourself desiring the soiled jacket you shed long ago.  The truth is that it doesn’t fit you anymore.

 And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

Anais Nin

 

Adulterers, Murderers, Lovers and Saints-The Problem With Labels

9/26/08

I’m ten different people sometimes. I’m a wife, a daughter, a friend, a lover, a bitch, a romantic, a perfectionist, a sister, a blonde, an intellectual, a saint, and depraved.  The problem with being all of these things is that they don’t always peacefully co-exist, and they can combine to form something different altogether-whether good or bad. When I’m a bitch and depraved, I risk alienating everything I love. When I’m a saint and an intellectual, I risk becoming judgmental of others. When I’m a friend and a romantic, I risk crossing relationship lines that I would never think of crossing in any other situation. When I’m depraved and a lover, I take something beautiful and divine and turn it into something ugly and dark. Conversely, when I’m a romantic and a wife, I have the capacity to make my marriage better. When I’m a friend and a sister, I strengthen family bonds. When I’m a perfectionist and an intellectual, I succeed in my career.  So maybe you would say I’m a hundred different people depending on the combination presenting itself.  Some of those people are wonderful and some are horrible-some are incredibly intoxicating to be around, and others turn everyone away.

The problem with labels is that they’re not all-encompassing. They take a very three dimensional being and limit them to 2 dimensions. Labels minimize certain traits while putting others at the forefront and making them the “be all and end all” of that individual.  Labels also do not take into account any outside qualifiers that may explain or at least prompt certain behaviors. These qualifiers don’t necessarily excuse negative actions, however, they can serve to prompt a sympathetic reaction toward a seemingly inhuman person.

If we hear someone is a murderer, we immediately put that individual into a certain category of “bad people” who are much different than us.  But if we learn that the same individual volunteers at the soup kitchen, is married and has 2 small children, takes care of his elderly mother, and plays basketball with the neighborhood kids, we start to see that person in the more complete scope of who they are. We start to wonder what pushed that typically normal person so far that he took someone’s life.  We start to wonder if we, too, might have murder in our hearts. We start to explore the capacity of our own emotions and what they might lead us to do.

If we know someone is an adulteress, we automatically consider her loose, promiscuous, and a home-wrecker.  But what happens when that same woman, we find out, married her high school sweetheart who drinks too much and likes to hit her. Then we begin to understand who that woman is and why she is doing these things.  Empathy starts to crack open our closed mind.

 

The truth of the matter is that there are very few people who belong in the prison of such confining labels.  Yes, that man murdered someone. Yes, technically he is a murderer.  But he is also a father, a husband, a caring son, a Good Samaritan, and a friend.  Whatever pushed him to take a life in one split second should not necessarily define him for all time. Yes, the woman committed adultery. Yes, she broke her vows. But so did her husband. And the loneliness that justified the action in her mind somehow seems relatable. We start to see her, then, not just as the perpetrator, but also the victim. Maybe adulteress is a little harsh.

 

The challenge for us in this black and white world is to recognize the shades of gray surrounding us. Know that there is more to the story in almost every situation. Be slow to speak, slow to judge and slow to anger. Give people the benefit of the doubt, because you’re more like them than you realize. And you may think you know the truth…but you could be wrong.

 

Preferred Insanity

9/25/08

 

   I’ve been thinking about mental illnesses and the people we write off as being crazy.  I think that often, we embody many of the qualities of those we label “insane” but in more manageable doses. And I wonder sometimes, if the insane actually have it right. For instance, we all have the capacity to be controlling, we all have vices and coping mechanisms, we all have behaviors we dislike about ourselves and others; but often we have little voices in our heads that say “be reasonable,” “don’t say that,” and “not so fast.”  This voice can definitely prevent us from calamities we prefer to avoid. It can keep us politically correct in the eyes of society. It can protect us in our relationships and ensure personal safety.  But the problem is that it can also hold us back from asserting ourselves. It become a critic and an overlord. People often say listen to your conscience…but how can we tell that our conscience is always looking out for our best interest or allowing us to be who we truly are?

   The manner in which many “insane” people act is that of people with no conscience or no inner voice of reason. And I’m not saying that is always a good thing…But I feel that this does free them up to act on impulse-to do the first thing that comes to mind-to follow your heart without involving your head. Some actions that result can be disastrous, but I wonder if they experience a certain satisfaction knowing that nothing held them back.  That they did what they wanted to do when they wanted to do it-that they were true to themselves, whoever they may have been at the time. To be truly “crazy” with no apology…To be fully “insane” with no reservation…can sometimes be preferred to the nice, neat little packages we tie ourselves up in…What if we threw off all the chains we put on ourselves? What if we said what we wanted to say? What if we were really honest even when it hurt? What if we didn’t care about what other people thought? What if we just let go?

 

THEY (might really be me)

I realize that I’m always trying to get somewhere:  I’m trying to open a store, I’d like to get a raise, I want to have a baby, It’d be nice to pay off my house, I want to be more spiritual, I can’t wait to retire, just two more hours of work and then I can go home, I have to go grocery shopping, don’t forget the milk, we need to send out thank you cards, Easter is tomorrow, what are we doing for Memorial Day, what’s on TV tonight, I forgot to call my friend, I wish it were the weekend.

I think it’s become commonplace in our ever accelerating “microwave society,” that we’re constantly looking toward what’s next.  Especially intriguing, however, is that we’re the most overworked, depressed and anxious nation in the entire world.  When anti-depressents, anti-anxiety and ADHD medications are the most heavily prescribed to the population, I begin to wonder what is causing this manic state of being by which so many of our lives are ruled.  Is it the technology that seemingly owns our world, is it the constant flow of activites that we are encouraged and even guilted into signing up for, or is it the media telling us that we need to have the best, be the brightest, and keep up with the Joneses?

I think all of the aforementioned facts are perfectly good reasons to claim the status of victim to society, powerless over our own lives. The media is ruining our children, our values.  My clothes aren’t good enough, I need the new $400.00 vaccum. The church wants me to do this so I’d better chip in, or else I’ll feel guilty.  My mother, sister and best friend called, I’m expected to call them back.  According to Tide, I don’t spend enough time on housework, I should cook meals more often, damn lightbulbs are still burnt out, dust bunnies on the floor.

It’s almost as if our lives don’t belong to us any more, but to this machine that we, or should I say, THEY, have created.  Ah yes…The infamous THEY.  THEY seem to be responsible for alot.  THEY have set the standard for everything.  THEY make all the rules.  I have to do this or have that so that THEY won’t judge me.  I am most certainly a victim to THEY.  THEY hold all the cards.

On the other hand, THEY don’t do nearly enough that really matters.  THEY should be more concerned about the environment. THEY need to fix the pothole at the end of the street.  THEY should really do something about the AIDS epidemic in Africa. THEY need to teach our children better. THEY need to provide more assistance to the elderly.  THEY are charging too much for these paper towels.

It suddenly occurred to me that THEY have entirely too much power.  I want to start reclaiming the sovereignty that we allow THEM to have.  No longer do I want to say that I did it because THEY made me feel like I had to.  I don’t ever want to let THEM control my life.  I get scared when I realize that I’ve let THEM affect my emotions and what I hold dear.

As of now, I am going to insert “I” where THEY had previously reigned supreme.

It’s almost as if our lives don’t belong to us any more, but to this machine that we, or should I say, “I,” have created.  Ah yes…The infamous “I.”  ”I” seem to be responsible for alot.  ”I” have set the standard for everything.  ”I” make all the rules.  “I” have to do this or have that so that ”I” won’t judge me.  “I” am most certainly a victim to “I.”  ”I” hold all the cards.

On the other hand, ”I” don’t do nearly enough that really matters.  ”I” should be more concerned about the environment. ”I” need to avoid the pothole at the end of the street.  ”I” should really do something about the AIDS epidemic in Africa. ”I” need to teach my children better. “I” need to provide more assistance to the elderly.  ”I” am paying too much for these paper towels.

If we reclaim the power that we had previously left unguarded, allowing THEM to steal our control, we will no longer be concerned and entangled by the influence that outside forces have upon us.  In turn, we may just see that we have a voice to speak for those who really need it, and we may just find that those things over which we had spent so much time worrying and those things to which we spent so much time running aren’t necessarily the things that needed our undivided attention.

Will you join me in saying “I”  ?

“The problem is not a certain type of legislation or even a certain politician; the problem is the same it has always been.  I am the problem.  I think every conscious person, every person who is awake to the functioning principles within his reality, has a moment where he stops blaming the problems in the world on group think, on humanity and authority, and starts to face himself”…”The problem is not out there; the problem is the needy beast of a thing that lives within my chest.” -Donald Miller Blue Like Jazz